


Against the Current

by deancastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coma, Homophobia, M/M, Violence, Whump, fluffy goodness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 10:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deancastiel/pseuds/deancastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1950's AU where Dean works for Singer Auto and Cas is a bartender. They went to high school together in Kansas and meet up again by chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Against the Current

Castiel apathetically filled the thick glass mug in his hand. It was another quiet night at Buckeye Billy’s Bar. The night was warm but not sweltering and the heavy oak door was propped open, letting in small bugs that swarmed and buzzed around the patrons’ heads. They swatted them away as they stared at the dregs in the bottom of their glasses. Only regulars ever came in here, even on Friday nights.

There was a low roar in the distance and at first Castiel wasn’t sure what to make of it. Probably just another regular with a broken muffler, he thought absently. But it soon became clear that the roar was actually the growling of a motorcycle. Great, I don’t need this tonight, Castiel thought. It was well known that bikers were bad news, especially in bars. Castiel delivered the mug he had been filling to a withered old man sitting at one of the many round tables, placing it down with a thud and glancing out the door.

A brand new 1953 Norton motorcycle came to a stop in front of the bar door, the dust it had kicked up settling slowly to reveal a rider in a classic leather jacket with worn jeans and heavy boots. Castiel squinted to try seeing into the darkness better. But all he could really see was the motorcycle. Its black paint gleamed lowly in the dim yellow light from the street lamp.

The rider dismounted the bike, running at the paint with his thumb for a moment to remove a dirt smudge. By now most of the eyes were on them and they slowly pulled off their helmet. Castiel’s heart began to pound in his throat and he turned and walked as quickly as he could manage to the bar. 

It was Dean Winchester. The Dean Winchester. The guy who got all the girls in high school and the captain of the baseball team. He had been known as Winchester the Charmer. That had always irritated Castiel because the words didn’t even rhyme. And yet it stuck and that’s what Dean was called since they had been sophomores.

Dean had never missed the chance to make an entrance and now Castiel watched him, along with everyone else, as he strutted through the open front door. Dean smirked as he walked towards the counter, past the round tables that littered the room. He sat at the counter without a word, placing his helmet on it with a loud clack. There were a few beats of silence and Castiel held his breath while he rummaged around behind the counter.

“Well if isn’t Cas Novak.”

Castiel froze with his back to Dean. He turned slowly with a glass and a rag in his hand. Dean was right there in front of him, helmet in hand. He was about to make a witty remark but he got a really good look at Dean. He had changed since high school. He was taller, more built and his lanky features had filled out into the sharp, strong features of a man. And yet his eyes were still that stunning shade of green that had always thrown Castiel for a loop. Those hadn’t changed at all except now there were more defined lines in Dean’s face making him look mature and experienced. Castiel faltered for a moment, his mouth hanging open with his lack of words before he cleared his throat and looked away from the man in front of him.

“I go by Castiel now.”

Dean shrugged and smiled, leaning forward with his elbows on the bar. The bar had returned to the normal din of clinking glass and low voices. Castiel could feel Dean’s eyes on him as he thoroughly, almost obsessively, dried the mug in his hands.

“I thought you moved out of Kansas. Rumor was you were headed to New York City to be a hot shot writer.” Dean said casually.

“I did. But I came back. New York City wasn’t all that people said it was. It was loud, dirty, and expensive.”

“Sorry to hear that. Glad you’re back though.”

Castiel avoided Dean’s gaze as he picked up another glass. He couldn’t tell what Dean was doing. Dean had never been all that decent to him in high school. He’d always made fun of him but that had been the natural order. The baseball team would pick on anyone who was too afraid to stick up for himself. What they hadn’t expected was that Castiel wasn’t easy to push around and Castiel had always suspected that Dean respected him for that. But he seemed strangely friendly tonight. They hadn’t seen each other for at least 2 years.

“Um, thank you. You seem to be doing well yourself.” Castiel said quietly.

“Yeah, not too shabby actually. I’m working over at Singer Auto now,”

Castiel nodded absently as he poured a beer and walked over to hand it to Dean. Dean took the drink and nodded in thanks before taking a long gulp. They were quiet for a few minutes as Dean finished his beer before standing. Castiel was sure he’d leave without a word but, as always, Dean surprised him.

“When do you get off?”

“My shift is usually over at two.”

“Great! See you then.”

In true Dean fashion he didn’t wait for an answer as he left the bar, waving over his shoulder. There were a few clicks of the key in the ignition before Castiel could hear Dean revving his bike to life. And then he was gone. You could have at least left a tip, Castiel grumbled to himself.

Castiel found himself checking the clock frequently and it moved far too slowly for his liking. He convinced himself it was because he just wanted to get off work but if he were being honest it was because he was excited to see Dean. He hadn’t seen him since they graduated high school a few years earlier. And he looked and sounded so different, so…mature.

Finally the little hand settled solidly over the two and almost instantly the faint roar of that Norton could be heard. Castiel quickly removed his apron and slung it over the counter before shutting off the lights in the bar. The patrons had been gone for a while now, seeing as most of them had work in the morning. The entire building went dark except for the faint light of that single street lamp outside that cast deep shadows through the bar.

The Norton came to a stop in its same parking spot, growling contently in the warm spring air. Cas quickly walked through the bar, pushing in and straightening chairs all the way to the door. He stepped out just as Dean pulled his helmet off. Castiel started laughing in spite of himself.

“What? What is it?”

“Nice helmet hair.”

Dean frowned and smoothed down his erratic brown spikes with his free hand. That only made Castiel laugh harder until his sides began to get sore and only then did he start to calm down. He tried to catch his breath and realized that Dean was watching him curiously.

“I didn’t know you laughed.”

“Asshole,” Castiel huffed, “I do laugh. Just not frequently.”

Dean snickered and shoved his hands into the pockets of his worn leather riding jacket. Castiel wiped a few tears that had escaped from his eyes and chuckled again. This Dean was completely different from the one he’d known in high school.

“So where do you want to go?” Dean asked, kicking at some gravel.

“I don’t know. We can just walk.”

Dean didn’t answer instead he pulled the keys from the ignition of his bike and began to walk down the road towards the main part of town. The faint sounds of the nearly non-existent night life began to grow louder as they got further from the bar and closer to town. They walked in silence for a while, both of them fidgeting slightly in the prolonged quiet.

“So what did you do after graduation?” Dean asked finally.

“Nothing much. I got my diploma and began applying for jobs. That was before my rebellious writing streak.”

“You call writing rebellious?” Dean laughed.

“It is in my family. My parents were extremely strict and all my siblings are either doctors or lawyers. So a son who wanted to write was practically a disgrace.”

“Harsh.”

“Not really. They have their idea of success and I have mine. So I went to New York City for a year and found out that it wasn’t as successful as I thought it would be. So I came back, moved out of my parents’ house, and started working at Buckeyes.”

“Quite the story. Much more interesting than mine.”

“I doubt it. You’re a pretty colorful character.”

“Colorful? Nah, just the opposite actually. I barely graduated high school and went straight to work for Bobby. He took me in and treated me like his own family.”

“Isn’t he your uncle?”

“Nah, we just say he is. He’s actually no relation to me or Sammy.”

“Oh yeah, Sam’s your brother. He’s three years younger than us, right?”

Dean nodded and kicked a rock at his feet. He seemed to be someplace else, his eyes roaming the road. Castiel wondered what he was thinking about. He seemed troubled and all Castiel wanted to was ask him what was wrong and help him. He didn’t know why. Why Dean? Why now? After how Dean’d treated him in high school. Questions bounced around in Castiel’s head as he walked next to Dean.

While they had talked their feet had taken them into the center of the small city that droned with people out for the night. Neon signs buzzed, advertising for bowling alleys and bars, while music drifted out of various buildings.

Castiel stopped walking and fixed his eyes on Dean. Dean stopped and turned to him with a questioning look. Castiel took a deep breath and arranged his thoughts, trying to figure out what to say.

“Why’d you stop?” Dean asked.

“Why did you ask me to come out here with you?”

“Huh? Well I hadn’t seen you for a while and I figured it would be nice to catch up.”

“You hated me in high school.”

It wasn’t a question, and Dean rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, looking sheepish. He knew that he’d been pretty awful to Castiel in the past and that was one of the reasons he’d asked him out that night.

“Yeah about that…I actually didn’t hate you at all. I liked you."

“Liked me?”

Something strange twisted inside of Castiel at these words. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He decided it was just surprise because he had been convinced that Dean hated him for years. So now that he didn’t he wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Yeah you were quiet but you didn’t take our shit. I found myself wishing I could be your friend.”

“Oh I was hoping—“

Castiel didn’t realize that he’d moved closer to Dean in the time they were talking. They were now extremely close and Castiel could see every detail and every freckle on Dean’s face. Castiel’s heart stopped and he fumbled for something to say. Dean seemed to be at a loss of words as well, his lips hovering open.

“Get a room, fags!”

Castiel froze as a group of guys yelled at them from across the street. They were obviously drunk even though they were also obviously too young to be drinking. There were four of them and they were all relatively the same height and build. Football players most likely. Castiel turned to walk away but Dean was already in action. He whirled to face the group of men.

“Say that to my face, asshole!”

“Get. A. Room!”

“That’s it…”

“Dean, it’s not worth it. They’re just drunk.”

“I don’t care.”

Dean crossed the street straight towards the boys. They seemed to be a mixture of surprise and excitement. Castiel followed closely behind Dean, wondering how to keep the inevitable from happening. His head was still reeling from what had just happened. Why hadn’t Dean pulled back or said something? Why did he look flustered? Dean Winchester never got flustered. He was known for being totally cool and smooth.

“Hey, queen. Did we interrupt your moment?”

“Shove it.” Dean snarled.

Dean swung at the guy clearly in charge of the little group, his fist connecting solidly with his gut. There was a low thwack sound and the man bent over, grasping at his stomach. The other men were instantly in action. They closed in around Dean, fists clenched and stances low.

“No!” Castiel yelled.

Castiel pushed his way through the men to where Dean was bent over and coughing. He stood in front of him, squaring his shoulders and narrowing his eyes at the leader of the little group.

“You got something to say, fairy?”

“Leave us alone. We didn’t do anything.”

“Cas, it’s no use. They’re a bunch of windbags, they won’t listen.”

Castiel was about to tell Dean to shut up when a heavy fist connected with his jaw. His world went white and he felt his knees buckle. He struggled to regain his vision and when he did he could taste blood in his mouth. A hand gripped the front of his shirt and yanked him back up to his feet.

“I’ll teach you to fuck with us.” The voice growled.

Castiel attempted to pry the hand from his collar and that resulted in another blow to the head. This time his ears started ringing and black spots started to bloom across his vision.

“Cas!” 

Dean struggled to straighten his stance and Castiel tried to tell him to get out of here. Get far away, but he couldn’t seem to make his mouth move. Two of the men grabbed Dean and held him up while the man holding Castiel wound up for another punch.

Castiel flinched as another blow came but this time it struck him in the ribs. Something cracked and he began coughing. He could feel his consciousness slipping; the only thing that was keeping him awake was the sound of Dean’s voice nearby, frantically yelling his name.

“Four for flinching.” Castiel’s assaulter chuckled darkly.

With the next blow the darkness began to spread faster, making Castiel’s vision tunnel. One last blow and the last thing Castiel remembered was the sound of Dean trying to make the men stop and the pain of several pairs of hands and feet connecting with his body.

The next few days or weeks, Castiel wasn’t sure how long it was, were torture. He was unconscious for most of it but he could occasionally hear talking. He recognized Dean’s brother Sam’s voice after a few minutes of listening.

“Is he going to live?”

And then a voice Castiel didn’t recognize.

“We’re not sure yet. He has quite a few injuries. But we’re doing our best.”

Cas would have laughed at that typical doctor answer if had been able to. But as it was he was trapped in this darkness which was awfully numb and lonely. And cold. The darkness was everywhere. No matter how far he searched the darkness was always there.

Then another voice.

“Cas,” 

Cas would have exulted if he had been able to. It was Dean. He was alive.

“Cas I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault you got hurt…”

After that the darkness seemed to stretch on forever. He tried to find some way to count the passing of time. But there was nothing, no noises or lights. So he was stuck in this limbo. He dreamed during this time. Though he wasn’t sure if that was technically what it was called. But memories flashed, lighting up his dark prison momentarily.

There was his old high school. And the grassy quad nestled between two large oak trees. Underneath the one closes to the back door of the theater was where Castiel would always sit and read. That was also the place that Dean had visited him once after school. It had been random and Castiel hadn’t expected it. But there he was, in his baseball pants, sweaty from practice. That was the first time that Castiel had realized that Dean actually had the capacity to be decent. And that’s when he had started paying attention. That was when Dean had become the subject for some of his drawings and writings. He never knew why, he had chalked it up to be that Dean was interesting and hard to understand.

There were only a few times that he had interacted with Dean. They flashed briefly behind his eyelids then he was left in the dark again. He struggled to bring them back but it only ended with him being frustrated.

It went on like this for a long time, weeks it felt like.

And then a few hundred memories later there was a change.

A slow beeping accompanied by a whirring sound. A heart monitor. At least some of his brain still worked. He focused on the sound and heard something else. A soft whooshing noise, Someone’s here with me, he realized. He pushed at the ambiguity of the darkness, trying desperately to reach out, but blackness snapped back like a rubber band and the sounds were gone. He wanted to scream and rip his hair out in frustration but all he could do was listen to the heart monitor.

Several thousand beeps later something changed again. There were sounds again. The same beeping and whirring of the heart monitor but there was something else. Whispering? The soft sound of two people talking reached him.

“Dean, you look terrible. You’ve been here for days. Maybe you should leave for a little while, just get out. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

Dean? Dean had been sitting here with him? There was the soft squeak of someone getting out of a chair. And footsteps slowly fading. And then Sam was talking to him.

“Castiel? Hey…heh…this is weird. I don’t even know if you can hear me but, well, what the hell.” Sam paused for a moment and Castiel wanted to tell him to keep talking, “Look. You were beaten up pretty bad. You were barely breathing when we brought you here.” Sam choked softly on the words and cleared his throat, “But the doc said you might pull through.”

Sam’s voice changed and he turned desperate. “Cas, man, you have to get better. You have to fight. Because Dean is a mess. I mean like, a real mess. I didn’t think he had it in him to care this much.”

Sam choked again and took a moment to regulate his breathing. Suddenly Castiel could feel something warm touching him in the darkness where he guessed his hand would be.

“You have to get better. Dean needs you, man.”

Castiel felt the familiar sensation of the darkness pulling him down and he struggled against it, using all of his energy to push and shove against the numbness, but it crashed down on him.

The next stretch of time was silent and dark. The memories were gone, the sounds, the touches, everything. Castiel struggled to stay in the darkness. He could feel something much more permanent beginning to suck him in and he knew instinctually that he had to avoid that at all costs. He couldn’t leave Dean. So he fought. He pushed and wrestled and fought at the darkness, clawing his way back to the sounds and memories.

Each push earned him a little ground. And so he pushed harder and suddenly he could hear the heart monitor again. And the soft breathing again. Another shove. The pressure of someone holding his hand. Another heave and there was light.

It banished the darkness violently and Castiel could see the light forming into shapes. They began to shift and move until he made the conscious decision to open his eyes.

He was greeted by the harsh whiteness of a hospital room. The whitewashed walls blended with the white tile floors. The uncomfortable smell of bleach reached his nose. And yet it was wonderful. Because he could smell. So he took a huge breath, letting the smell burn in his nose.

“Cas.” Castiel turned his head weakly to see Dean near the door to the hospital room. Instantly Dean was running to stand next to him, his fingers brushing gently along Castiel’s face. “Cas, can you hear me?”

“Yeah.” His voice was completely wrecked, like he hadn’t had a drink of water in years. 

Dean nearly collapsed in relief and an honest to God smile spread across his lips. He leaned in to press their foreheads together.

“Thank God. I thought you were going to tap out on me.”

“No, you can’t get rid of me.” Castiel sounded like a chain smoker, ruining the joke.

Dean let out an exhausted laugh before pulling back abruptly, “If you ever pull a stunt like that again, so help me, I’ll snuff you myself.”

“Did those guys…?”

“Yes, but almost at your expense. You’re an idiot for getting between me and them.”

Castiel shrugged but it hurt and he winced.

“You’re still healing. They nearly killed you.”

“They…” Castiel pondered for a moment, the memories slowly coming back, “are they?”

Dean nodded curtly, his expression turned uncharacteristically cold, “The police got a hold of them. After I took care of some of them myself.”

Castiel shuddered at the venom in Dean’s voice. He could be scary when he wanted to be.

“Geez, Dean. Why’d you do that?”

“They were going to kill you.”

The answer was simple and yet Castiel could feel that there was a profound meaning behind the words. Like Dean had just confessed something to him.

“You didn’t have to obliterate them.”

Dean turned away from Castiel. He took a deep breath before looking out the window to the parking lot.

“Cas I don’t think you get it...”

Castiel didn’t say a word as Dean struggled for words. In fact he seemed to be holding his breath.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if they’d killed you.”

Warmth began to spread through Castiel. Had Dean really just said that? Because that was a hell of a lot bigger than ‘Hey I like you.’ Or ‘You’re my friend.’

This was venturing into the realm of something greater than friendship. Castiel felt himself blanch at the word ‘love’. It hit him like a freight train and suddenly the heart monitor was beeping wildly. Dean turned quickly, his eyes worried.

“Cas?”

“I’m fine,” Castiel panted, still completely weak, “Just give me a moment.”

Dean watched anxiously as Castiel tried to catch his breath. The monitor slowly went back to its normal beeping but Dean only seemed to relaxed slightly. Castiel sat in silence, trying to process what he had just heard. Had Dean really meant that he loved him? Like a brother…or more? As a friend? Or something else?

Castiel felt like he was short circuiting as he tried to grasp the concept that another man might or might not be in love with him.

“Cas, you alright?”

“Yeah…I’m…” Castiel took a deep breath before looking at Dean, “When you say you wouldn’t know what to do if I were gone, you mean…?”

“My world would be really dull. You’re a lot more important to me than you think. Even in high school when I was mean to you. Even then many of the things I did revolved around you. You were often the inspiration for my playing. You had become an important part of my life. And I’m really glad I stepped back into your life.”

Yup. That was definitely a love confession. Even in that awkward way Dean said it, it was obvious. Castiel tried to keep from hyperventilating while Dean’s gaze made him feel like he was on display.

“Well I…that’s just.”

“I don’t expect you to say anything.”

Castiel sat silently as he always did, watching Dean with wide eyes. And while he did he realized something. He felt the same way.

All those times when he’d caught Dean looking at him from across a room. Or all those times Dean had come to find him after school hours. Or how he seemed to start to take different routes to class just to catch a glimpse of him. It all made sense now.

If Dean were gone, he would be lost too. For that whole year he was in New York City he had felt like something was missing. He couldn’t find inspiration in anything. And now he knew why. It was because Dean wasn’t there.

So it clicked.

“Me too,” Castiel whispered.

“What?”

“Me too, Dean. I don’t know what I would do if you were gone.” Castiel didn’t meet Dean’s gaze. He stared intently at the white bed sheets as if he could sink into them and disappear.

“Cas,” Dean said, his voice strained. Castiel automatically bristled at the name and looked up, narrowing his eyes. He could feel a blush spreading across his cheeks and reaching his ears.

“I told you already, my name is Cas —“ But he was cut off.

The kiss was soft and sweet. Just a light brush of lips. And Dean’s lips were wide and inviting as they pressed against Castiel’s. Castiel found himself closing his eyes and he let himself melt into the kiss. Because for some reason he suddenly felt whole. It was such a clichéd notion, to be completed by a kiss. But he honestly felt as though some gap in his heart he hadn’t known about had been filled.

Too soon the kiss was over and he opened his eyes slowly, feeling the burn of his blush tingling in his ears and on his cheeks.

“The blush suits you. It brings out your eyes.” Dean said and Castiel rolled his eyes.

“You ruined the moment.” Cas said and Dean grinned.

“Did not. I’m just saying that your eyes—“

“Alright, alright. Just kiss me again before I change my mind.”


End file.
